Scars Upon The Mountain - 1. Scars Upon the Mountain Top

Fields of Lava

Gray dust and smoke darkened the skies. No animal remained on the mountain to be troubled by the hot, harsh air. The lucky ones had fled down the slope and found refuge nearby. A few tree skeletons clung stubbornly to the hillside. The smoldering remains of once proud trees testified to the destructive force of the volcanic eruption.

Weeks passed. Cooling rivers of lava slowly turned to stone. Beneath the surface, the heat and pressure created sparkling stones; unseen treasure prized by greedy and careless men.

Above, the wind playfully stirred up volcanic ash and dust. Small, gray eddies danced across the rock, uncaring of the heat or the fragility of the rocky crust. Tired of the game, the gusts changed directions and the suspended particles slowly drifted down. The beginnings of fertile soil are laid…

Lightning Strikes!

Black clouds squabbled above the old volcano. They pushed and shoved, jabbed each other with bolts of lightning. An errant bolt struck the mountain…

Red and orange beasts chased each other down the mountainside. Grasses and scrubby bushes fed the maddened beasts as they raced towards an old forest. Their offspring leapt upwards and played on the jungle gym provided by the branches of the trees. Old, dried pinecones that still clung to branches caught fire.

On the ground, the beasts greedily consumed the dry pine needles and branches found in their path. Above, tiny playful sparks leapt from the ground and from tree to tree, gleefully spreading destruction. The old pine trees groaned, as if the tiny flames weighed them down terribly. Below the fiery canopy, pinecones burst open from the tremendous heat. Tiny seeds were thrown into the air, hopefully to land on fire scarred earth, instead of hungry flames.

Crack! Sap, the very lifeblood of the tree, boiled by tremendous heat, proved too much, and branches exploded. An old giant, long since weakened by diseases and animals, fell before the flames. The ground shuddered at its passing.

Slowly, the terrible flames ran out of forest and died. The mountainside smoldered once again.

Animals, which had fled the orange beasts in terror, cautiously returned. Squirrels searched for safe burrows in charred trees. Deer hunted for safe passage among the ashes. Birds returned to the branches that formerly sheltered their nests. Hungry predators came; the wolves, coyotes, and big cats attracted by the easy picking of weak and weary prey.

Burs and seeds from grass and flowers, caught on fire during the manic flight, dropped onto the charred ground. Birds, dropping uneaten berries, gathered twigs and grasses to rebuild nests. Under the soil, seeds buried by time and animals, woke by the heat, cracked open. Seeds waited patiently for the rain to send out roots and shoots.

Life begins anew…

Rough cut

An eagle soared high over the mountain, searching around the volcanic top that had been dormant for centuries. Its shadow slipped across tree tops towards the bare earthen scar on the side of the mountain. Greedy men with their noisy machines had knocked down trees, and scraped away fertile soil in their quest to mine the precious minerals created millennia before.

Far below, a lone squirrel paused at the edge of the forest. Ahead was open ground, obvious danger, but perhaps the perfect hiding place for his acorn. The open area did not smell of forest fire, but nothing grew on the churned up ground. Its nose twitched as it turned its head one way and then another, sniffing for unseen predators. It rotated its ears around, listening for any warnings. Sensing nothing, it hopped once and froze. Once more, its sensitive ears and nose searched for signs of danger. Finding none, it shot forward several quick hops and froze again to search for predators.

Far above, the sudden movement caught the eagle's attention. It banked and turned gracefully back to search for the unwary animal.

The squirrel ventured further in and found the perfect spot. Front paws quickly pushed the dirt aside to create a cache for its treasure. Ears twitched constantly as the squirrel listened for predators.

The eagle turned back again, its shadow crossing over the squirrel.

The squirrel froze for the briefest of seconds. Frightened, it dropped the acorn before it turned towards the trees. Frantically it leapt, paws barely touching the earth, the squirrel fled towards safety.

The eagle, finally fixed on the moving animal, dove. As predator and prey raced for the tree line, the acorn rolled down hill, coming to rest in a small hole in the bare earth.

The squirrel, who reached safety within the trees first, hid deep in his burrow, while the eagle pulled up and resumed soaring and hunting. The forgotten acorn rested in the hole.

A dry wind blew dust across the acorn. Dandelion seeds abandoned their dance with the wind to settle on the ground. At the edge of the clearing, wild grasses sent roots into the bare soil.

A sudden rain storm drenched the mountain with water. At the top of the abandoned strip mine, a bare earthen shelf crumbled under the assault, no roots left to hold it together. The storm was short lived and rivulets of muddy water rushed down the hill. The wind blew the clouds off and the bright sunlight dried the water. The acorn was now buried beneath muddy wash.

An apple, tossed aside after someone's lunch, rotted on the ground. The seeds dropped to the soil beneath.

In the forest, the last leaf fell silently to the ground. The lucky squirrel slept in its burrow. Winter snows blanketed the mountain side, hiding both forest and dirty scar from sight. Animals, proudly showing off winter coats, went about their business on frosty days and colder nights. The acorn, dandelion and apple seeds waited.

Longer days and shorter nights allowed the sun to melt the snow. The ground slowly warmed up. The seeds responded to a hidden signal, and sent out roots. Tiny shoots poked through the soil. Shoots became stems. Stems sprouted leaves. An oak tree and an apple tree took shape. Wild grasses and flowers covered the bare earth. A meadow is born…